


cause I could live by the light in your eyes

by beepbedeep



Category: Dare Me (TV 2019)
Genre: Aftermath, Beth Needs a Hug, F/F, SO DOES ADDY, everyone is doing their best?, hugs for everyone, therappppy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-05
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-18 12:20:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29857992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beepbedeep/pseuds/beepbedeep
Summary: Falling apart at least means that things get put back differently, right? Beth thinks they're all ready for somedifferentORBeth and Addy find their way back, one step at a time.
Relationships: Beth Cassidy/Addy Hanlon
Kudos: 22





	cause I could live by the light in your eyes

**Author's Note:**

> HELLO welcome!!!! in my head beth simply never threatens anyone with a gun because that is SUCH AN AWFUL THING TO DO!!!! AHHHD!!!
> 
> tw: mention of eating disorders and suicide

It hits her like a sharp kick to the stomach, when Beth realizes it for the first time. _She’s in love with her best friend_. But it doesn’t hurt like Brianna’s leg accidentally flying into her chest, instead she feels the way she does after finishing a perfect routine, or maybe like she’s standing under a waterfall, everything soft cascading over her body. Everything makes _sense_ , the hot tight jealousy that’s been running under her skin nonstop for the past few months, the way she and Addy keep building their totally unstable amount of intensity, more and more every day no matter how they try to fight it. _Unrequited love can really fuck things over._

All this flashes through Beth’s head in 0.5 seconds as she’s flopped out on Addy’s bed while her best friend frowns at the precalc packet they’d all been given at the start of the week. Addy’s eyes flick up to Beth’s face because _of course they do_ , because _even when everything is tense and awful they still know each other way too well_. And right now nothing feels too fraught, Beth things whatever has been coiling between them might be asleep for the day. This is how they _should_ be, easy and soft with their legs interlocked and the afternoon speeding by to the tune of Addy’s soft breath and Beth’s fingers tapping in time to music on the wood of Addy’s bedside table. 

They’d fought yesterday, about Coach and tomorrow they’ll probably fight about the way Beth has to beg Addy to spend time with her and Addy will reply with _Beth you were waving a gun around_. There will be fear in her eyes, and it won’t be simple, because Addy really does know that Beth _would never_ hurt her, Beth knows this too, she would never, but she still grabbed the gun, still fired into the woods. She remembers seeing the gun and feeling her skin itch, wondering what it might feel like to press the cold metal against the soft flesh of her temple. She remembers picking it up, heading for the woods, to throw it as far away as possible. But instead it ended up pointed at other people, at _Addy_. 

Beth won’t ever fuck up like that again. (Beth apologizes for that the next morning, again and again and again. Beth Cassidy does _not_ threaten people she loves, doesn’t fucking threaten anyone with a gun. She tells Addy, _never again. Never anything like that ever again._ And Beth means it. There are some lines she doesn’t go anywhere with.) 

They’re not supposed to do this, not supposed to break any of these rules. But here they are, breaking rules right and left and Beth is _terrified_ about what this means. So she reaches her hand out, gently traces the skin of Addy’s shoulder and sinks into the moment as far as she can, storing it in her memory for when things get worse.

Things get _so much worse._

The next time she’s hit with the _you’re in love with Addy Hanlon_ train she’s shaking in her hotel room, feeling like she’s dying, and Addy doesn’t have her phone, so Addy isn’t coming to save her. 

(Beth thinks about _him_ every single day, can still feel where the scab sat on her tongue for two weeks. She doesn’t remember anything, but it feels like her skin might, like just as she’s slipping off to sleep, like her skin remembers hands and too-close breath in her face. Beth knows when to pull back. Turns out this guy didn’t. She can’t do anything about it, short of ripping all her skin off and building a brand-new body. She stops sleeping. Maybe it’s what she deserves. Eternal torment for hurting the only person she cares about.)

She and Addy are ripping each other apart. It’s _awful_ and it hurts more than anything else Beth’s ever had to deal with. She wonders (knows) if it’s so bad because they’re full of all this _wanting_ , all this _tension_ , if she and Addy accidentally swallowed two magnet halves as children and those little pieces of metal are trying to find their way back together. She thinks they might love each other, maybe have for a long time, but they’re just so fucking terrible at _talking_ about it. Like maybe this much energy can’t go unmentioned. She wonders in the middle of the night if she and Addy had just _talked_ , just figured all their shit out last year, if maybe they’d be happy now. She’d always enjoyed their subtext but now she thinks it might be killing them. It’s _bad_ and it’s bad because they’re dancing around all these feelings. Just like they always have. 

In middle school they talked about _everything_. The good the bad and the ugly, in Addy’s bedroom or Beth’s backyard. And then cheer, then being at the top, and they live on subtext now, on power and pain and hunger. 7th grade _sucked_ but at least she knew her best friend down to the ground. Beth likes the subtext for a while, knew Addy did too, their own personal game made of brushing shoulders and shared lipstick and slightly too-long glances. But it turned bad, rotten without either of them really realizing it. 

It’s almost too late when Beth thinks they could do something different. 

In 5th grade Addy decided they should be psychic and Beth agreed, because contrary to popular belief she does listen to Addy. (she can’t refuse Addy anything.) It’s years later before they get into their games, their power struggle, where Beth ends up louder and can’t figure out how to pull Addy up with her. In 5th grade things are still _easy_ , Addy feels like home when nothing else is, so Beth stares into her best friend’s eyes, threads their fingers together and grins as Addy guesses what she’s thinking. (The cool thing is, Addy’s almost always right.)

 _Eyes on my girl._ It’s a chant, a prayer, a reminder. Beth says it to herself, loops it in her head, during dinner with her dad, when her mom doesn’t wake up for the whole day, when she can’t get her back tuck right over the summer. _Eyes on my girl_. Addy never leads her astray. Addy’s what matters. _Eyes on my girl_.

_But everything absolutely fucking implodes._

Beth can’t breathe half the time, like Addy’s her fucking heart or something. That doesn’t make anything better. Addy leaves again and again and again. Beth does everything she can to stop her. She can’t. And they _know_ how to hurt each other, you can’t erase a lifetime of knowledge like that. They have their games and their weapons and a little bit of nothing left to lose. So every conversation gets worse, breaks them just a little more. They can’t stop hurting each other. Beth doesn’t know how they got here, how a thing that used to feel so right is strangling them. She doesn’t think Addy knows either. 

They go to the competition, Addy doesn’t come to save Beth because she doesn’t have her phone and then Beth confronts her before they compete and they’re just _killing each other_. Knife in the heart over and over again. The field after Sarge’s death isn’t any different, Beth doesn’t know why she thought it would be. They’re _trapped_ , trapped in this awful cycle of tearing each other apart when it’s supposed to be _them against the world_. 

And there, in the aftermath of Addy and Coach, everything that’s been rotting for the past months _falling apart_ , a brokenness that neither of them ever expected, Beth considers what she still knows. 

The thing is, Addy’s not a child or a puppy or a houseplant, she's a fucking _person_. She's smart and strong and insanely funny and makes the world livable. Beth gets it, get how they might look from the outside, her always directing the ship, and that’s not untrue, but Addy is _not_ a pushover. She can handle herself, everyone needs to stop selling Addy so incredibly short. Beth knows her best friend, knows this, knows she can give _as good as she gets_. But they got stuck in this pattern, Beth always leading and Addy always following and they didn’t realize when it stopped working. Addy’s always pulling away, leaving as fast as she can and Beth is clinging as hard as possible, all teeth and nails and animal fear. It’s too much work for both of them. _This doesn’t make sense anymore._

Addy knows where all her ruined parts are, just as well as Beth knows Addy’s. What’s even _left_ , after the one person who knows you, who you can relax around, leaves?

She knows how dangerous they are, how much _energy_ the squad has buzzing between them. They’re _power_ , raw power covered in glitter and winged eyeliner and school spirit. Beth sees it in her friends every day, does her best to be worthy of this life for just a little longer. Before Coach they were a united front, for the most part, coming together to do exactly what needed to be done. But _Collette French_ got herself right in the middle, tore them apart. 

In the aftermath, the world after coach and her husband are found guilty, the world where Addy was _fucking groomed_ to take the fall, the world where Addy finally gets out safe and their little town never sees the murderers ever again, everything begins to settle. (Beth doesn’t hear any of this from Addy. Instead it all comes through RiRi who _is_ a good friend, a better friend when Beth and Addy aren’t playing games with her.) They get a new coach, one who isn’t hellbent on destroying their lives. She praises them, keeps a perfectly kind and professional relationship with the squad, and passes out flyers about bulimia on her third day, _do NOT do this, ladies. You don’t need to_. She talks to them about college, tells them different scholarship options, promises they’ll get to state for the scouts. Addy is better than ever, Beth is still top girl, and they never really talk. 

Beth goes to RiRi’s house on the weekends, escaping her own like the black hole it is, and it’s _nice_. RiRi’s always been fun, been a good friend, and Beth is learning how to be a good friend back. Time with RiRi is _nothing_ like time with Addy. Beth learns how to be ok with that. Other days she drives around with Brianna, or does her homework in the back yard. She has other friends, other people. A little bit of her desperation disappears. 

She still can’t sleep. The new coach asks if she’s ok and Beth always nods. No weakness. Still, it’s nice to have someone ask. Addy stops going to parties, spends time with Slocum on the weekends and trains with the rest of them. Beth feels a gaping hole in her chest, feels it _all the time_. She learns to live with it, learns to bandage it the right ways and walk so no one can tell there’s anything wrong. Sometimes Tacy will say something particularly heinous (she’s not quite as brave around the new coach, a little softer when they aren’t actively being egged on) and before Beth can respond she’ll see Addy tense up in the corner of her vision. And it’s not that thing people used to say (people still say) about Addy being Beth’s _lieutenant or whatever_. Addy’s just a good friend, protects the people she cares about to the death. Beth might not be on that list anymore, but yeah. Old habits die hard. 

(she sees how Addy tenses because no matter how hard she tries she can’t erase her old instincts, her hard-won habits, she can’t not notice Addy when she’s in the room. Addy just fucking _shines_ , She’s the prettiest girl Beth’s seen, ever, and maybe this feeling isn’t going away.)

She still thinks about Addy all the time. No one else takes up as much of her life as Addy used to, which means Beth has a _lot_ of free time. So she thinks. She thinks about _everything_.

Addy’s so much stronger than Beth, the kind of resilient that well supported kids are. (The kind of resilient that RiRi is, or even Tacy with her doting father.) Faith Hanlon is a good mom, reliable and present and honest without oversharing. Sure, Addy’s dad isn’t around but Faith is _always_ there, awake at the right times and so invested in her daughter’s life that it makes Beth want to cry in a way she doesn’t entirely understand. Addy’s a direct product of all her mother’s love while Beth is somewhere on the other side of the world when it comes to familial affection. They aren’t in close to the same time zone. 

Honestly, Faith is probably why Beth’s as ok as she is, all things considered. She’s slept over enough times that Addy’s bed feels as familiar as her own, Faith keeps oranges in the fridge all summer long because she knows they’re Beth’s favorite, has patched up Beth’s skinned knees and helped her with homework and planned birthday parties. She’s the one who stepped in when Beth’s parents were splitting up back in second grade, she invited Beth over every single day and asked for Beth and Addy to tell her stories while they all ate dinner together. Beth’s cried to Faith more than she’s cried to her own parents, at least back when things were easy and there wasn’t this awful grating weight hanging between her and Addy all the time. 

Everything she knows about actual parents she learned from Faith. But, of course, Faith is _Addy’s_ mom. She always picked Addy, every time. She _likes_ Beth, feels bad for her, but Addy’s her _kid_. Beth doesn’t have anyone who would pick her like that. 

Or like, she did. But Beth’s terrified that maybe no one’s ever gonna love her the way Addy did, the way Addy used to. She starts seeing a therapist, the new coach tells the boosters _the kids at this school need to talk to someone. Healthy kids win championships._ They find the money and Beth goes with Riri’s encouragement _I talked to her this morning and she was really cool!_ She is, the-therapist-whose-name-is-Jenny smiles and listens and maybe Beth’s just been waiting for someone to _listen_ to her. So yeah, it’s only January now but she’s starting to think that maybe spring won’t be so bad.

Except that she can’t stop thinking about Addy. Doesn’t matter how much Beth tries to think about other things, focus on the other girls at practice, Addy is there with her _magnetism_. It’s not the same as before, not the same gnashing teeth and tension and boiling exhaustion, she’s not _obsessed_. Addy’s just, still – like. She’s just still _wonderful_. Beth has good taste in friends, it’s one of the only things she really likes about herself, and Addy has always been the most interesting person in the room to her. 

(It’s different, because she’s learned how to see RiRi’s brilliance and the way Brianna is always there and how she _does_ have people who care, people to be fascinated and impressed by. It’s just that Addy’s different. The way she feels about Addy is, always has been _different_.)

And Beth misses her. 

She misses how Addy’s hands fit with hers, how Addy’s breathing in her ear is the only thing that used to make her lie still some nights, how Addy’s smile could power the top ten major cities across the world and how her laugh feels like Beth’s favorite winter coat. She tells Jenny The Therapist some of this, in between talking about her messed up family and what teeth in her tongue mean and the tightness that always lives in her chest. 

Beth learns to sleep again.

And she watches more, now that she’s like, actually awake for things. She sees how Riri can’t wait for the summer because her mom takes time off work and they spend two weeks watching reality TV together, she sees how Tacy shakes at the simplest of moves, and she sees _Addy_. Addy looks better, potentially from Jenny’s magic, or the new coach, or maybe that all the weight that predator-coach and Beth had been putting on her back. 

_Is everything better without me?_ Beth is bold, pathologically skilled at asking uncomfortable questions, but she’s never been any good at vulnerability. She’s afraid to ask.

But then. Addy has her old job back and Beth blows into the Dairy Queen one day without really thinking, maybe because it feels natural and maybe because she just wasn’t thinking about Addy for once. (She hasn’t done this in _forever_ , decided that sitting with Addy at work wasn’t a thing they did, but she can’t quite remember why, can’t remember why she would stay away if it was a chance to see Addy.) (She might have been jealous, jealous of a _literal building_ , of anything keeping them apart.) Now she basks in the air conditioning and when she sees Addy’s face, realizes she’s working, somehow she doesn’t want to run. Instead she smiles, orders, and when Addy looks surprised, _not the usual_? Beth grins. _I’m trying something new._

She spends the afternoon there, somehow, homework spread across the counter and chatting idly with Addy when there isn’t anyone to serve. It doesn’t feel earth shattering, doesn’t feel hot to the touch or overflowing with unspoken resentment. It’s just _nice_. She makes Addy laugh three times and they talk about practice, about college scouts, about if they should wear pink glitter at this weekend’s game. It’s light and easy and Beth _likes_ it. 

She leaves just a little before Addy’s shift ends, waves and Addy waves back. Beth hums the whole drive home. 

So hey. An idea. Just because they’re fucked doesn’t mean they can’t get unfucked, right? (She asks Jenny, who nods, _if we love them, people are usually worth salvaging_.) 

Beth texts Addy a few days later, _would it be ok if I came by again today?_ Addy texts back within a minute, _of course_. Beth goes, brings her homework, and sets up on the counter like before. She reads about the War of 1812 and it’s _boring_ but she fights her way through it. _Did you understand the chapter?_ Addy rolls her eyes and Beth is already giggling because she knows something good is coming. 

She goes back again and again, talks to Addy when she has time and does her own thing when Addy’s busy. There’s a small part of her that wants to keep track of Addy’s every moment, make sure she isn’t too interested in any of the other customers. But Addy doesn’t belong to Beth, she can talk to anyone as long as she wants. Beth will survive. So she tells the part to be quiet and it’s not even hard because she is so _tired_ of worrying about losing someone all the time. She does her homework, tells Slocum bad jokes (he’s warming up to her and Beth takes it as a sign that maybe Addy _doesn’t_ hate her, if she did then Slocum wouldn’t even look in her direction.) and the weird thing is, Addy always comes back to her with a smile, like she _wants_ to.

Beth feels lighter than she has in months, maybe lighter than she ever has. Cheer even gets easier, their new coach gets to see what Addy and Beth can _really_ do when they’re in sync. Homework and real work, practice, it’s more of Addy than Beth’s gotten in so long. And it’s _fun_. Not the same as before, nothing like before, but it’s still _them_. They chat in the locker room again, not changing on opposite corners of the room and then go their separate ways. Beth goes to Riri’s some days and it’s just as much fun as before she was visiting Addy. She’s proud of that, being able to care about other people too.

It’s one of the homework/work days when Addy’s closing up that Beth stays longer than she means to, hops up on the counter until Addy gently whacks her leg with a washcloth, _time to clean up, people have to eat here tomorrow._ She says it with a smile, it’s so familiar that Beth’s chest aches and she slides off without complaint. Turns out she doesn’t always need to fight. But even though it’s past closing they don’t leave, Addy finishes cleaning and joins Beth in a booth and the time _flies_ , the way it did before everything got all awful. It’s here, Addy snorting at whatever Beth just said (half of everything she says is just to hear Addy’s laugh, to feel it pulse through her body) that Beth feels her stomach flip, something in her chest constrict for just a second, and all she can notice is how _absolutely gorgeous_ Addy is. And then she realizes how relaxed she is, how they’re here after closing and had a good practice today and everything feels _good_. Beth doesn’t want to lose this again. 

They work. They worked. That’s the thing, they weren’t always broken. They can get back to that, right? A team?

Beth does something that would make Jenny proud. Instead of slipping back into everything old without really talking about it she takes a deep breath, like she’s about to be thrown into the air, _can we talk? About everything?_ Addy pauses, surprise flickers over her face (this is new, their ability to surprise each other, they couldn’t do that before and Beth thinks she kind of loves it) _Yes. That would be really nice._

So they do. They talk. They sit down and have an actual _conversation_ , like about what happened to them, why they did what they did, where they are now. Beth cries like she only does in front of Addy and Addy cries too. It’s a mess of apologies, _I’m so sorry I left you. I’m sorry I made you need to leave_. Beth tells Addy about the marine, the scabs on her tongue, the panic attack after Riri’s teeth. _I thought I would die without you._

In return Addy tells her about their old coach, what really happened and how she couldn’t stop it, _she was offering me a way out, you know? Everything I wanted._

Beth smiles, bites her lip, wipes away a tear. _Yeah, I do._

_I wanted to take you with me._

_Really?_

_Yes. Even when I wanted to be as far away as possible, I wanted you to be there._

They even talk about the fights, the nasty ones, the you-stab-me-in-the-fucking-hearts and no-Beth-you-takes. _I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry._ They both know most of the things, both know each other so well, but it’s nice to hear. It’s good to talk about, easier in the bright light of day without anything hanging over their heads. _We weren’t great there, for a while, were we._

Beth says it with a grimace and Addy reaches out to gently tap Beth’s wrist. _I think they call it growing pains. Especially bad for us but-_

_But when have we ever been normal._

_Exactly._

They sit in a mess of fresh apologies and old wounds and what feels an awful lot like healing, looking at each other. _Hey, Addy?_

_Yeah?_

_I think it might be nice to be normal with you._

Addy beams, the way that always makes Beth feel like she’s coming home. _Let’s do it._

Beth flashes a smile back, just like their old conspirator days, _we are gonna be so fucking healthy together._

Turns out, when the chips are down, They still _like_ each other. Their friendship, their jokes and teamwork and looks from across the room, it’s not just habit. They aren’t _stuck_ with each other. They just make each other _really happy_. It’s a real connection and a thousand other embarrassingly vulnerable things Beth is just learning how to think.

 **Things that Beth Cassidy knows now**  
• If you tell people what’s going on, they might be able to help you  
• If you tell them at least you’ll feel a little less crazy  
• Riri is incredibly good at dancing and also card games  
• When your family sucks it’s ok to find a new one  
• Some things are salvageable  
• Addy will come back  
• You don’t actually ruin things  
• Colleges want you, you and your friends  
• The future might just be ok, kid.  
• Loving doesn’t need to be hard. Love is not an attack  
• Jealousy is overrated and ruins things.  
• Addy chose you.  
• And you chose her, so that’s good  
• If you’re in love with your best friend fucking tell her. Don’t let things get all weird first.  
• Seriously, tell her. 

One morning, an early Saturday practice with Addy half asleep on her shoulder, Beth flashes back to something from the fall when everything was falling apart. _There’s got to be a way to fix this. We just need to burn some of this off. The tightness and the jealousy, actually talk to each other. Stop pretending that we’re just friends. That’ll make all of it better._

Before-Beth didn’t do anything, not in time. They broke instead, old wounds and fresh hunger, Addy too trapped and Beth too unloved. Ready to destroy each other. Good thing they really do care too much to do that.

Now-Beth is a little braver, a lot healthier, with Now-Addy who wants to be here and all their other friends, their whole lives stretching out in front of them. In the spirit of asking for what you want, new beginnings and old friends, she kisses Addy. They’re in Beth’s car, sweaty and starving from practice and Addy looks like she’s _glowing_. Beth can’t hold out anymore. So she doesn’t. She dives across the barrier between the seats and breathes everything about Addy, how every part of her feels safe. Addy grins back, pulls Beth even closer and _yeah_. This is _good_. This might even be perfect. 

(Years later, years of picking each other and long kisses and giggling at midnight, Addy’s stomach still flips at the way Beth says _Hanlon_ , with a hint of a smile and so much fondness behind her eyes. Second chances and therapy and knowing you’re loved and boundaries for the _win_.)


End file.
